Pretty Little Fitz Parade
by PLLFanFicts
Summary: A Pretty Little Liar fanfiction (Mostly Ezra), based on the My Chemical Romance album "Welcome to the Black Parade". Each chapter is based off of each song. The album tells a story of a dying cancer patient who greives over the loss of his lover because of his bad choices and depression, and the fact that he is virtually alone during his cancer treatment and recovery.
1. End

Hey everyone! :) This is a fanfiction about Aria and Ezra. (Mostly just Ezra.) It's based off of "Welcome to the Black Parade" Which is an album from the band "My Chemical Romance." The album tells the story of a dying cancer patient. So each chapter will be based on each song in the album. If you like MCR you'll appretiate it, and if you don't listen to them then just read the story and forget about the album part haha. Comment if you have any questions or anything :) Thanks for reading, and enjoy.

* * *

"Mr. Fitz?" My eyes open.  
"What?" I mutter. I had been sleeping. Finally, I was sleeping without any nightmares. And now, I was woken up. The lights hurt my eyes and there were too many voices in my room. "I was sleeping."  
"I know." Maria says. Maria is one of the day-shift nurses. She's the nice one. She's too nice. She reminds me of Aria. And for that reason I'm unusually mean to her. Which is weird. Because she doesn't deserve it. But I do it anyway. "I need to take some blood." She tells me.  
"I'd rather sleep." I say.  
"You can sleep afterwards."  
"I wanna go home." I tell her.  
"You will." She says. "When you get better you can go home."  
"What if I don't get better?"  
"Then you'll go home to heaven."  
Maria and I go over this almost every night. Like a rehearsed script. I do this mostly to see when she'll change her replies. But she never does. You don't change your script. She gets her needles and blood-getting-kit out and takes my arm in her hand. "So what book are you reading today?" She asks me. The only reasons I've made it this far with my cancer treatment, is by reading. My record is two novels and a half in one day. And the longest it has taken me to finish one book is three days. I have nothing else to do. Sometime's there's a good movie on, or I get a sudden burst of creativity and I write a short story. But mostly, if it ever takes me more than a day to finish a book, it's because I sleep too much. If I have chemo scheduled for that day, I usually sleep most of the day and don't have time to read.  
"To Kill a Mocking Bird." I tell her pointing to where it lays by my feet.  
"Again?"  
"It's my favorite." I say. "How much blood are you taking?"  
"No more than usual." She says. "Why?"  
"Because sometimes I get dizzy after the blood draws."  
"That's normal."  
"I know." I roll my eyes. "I just don't like it."  
"No one likes anything about cancer."  
"I like some things about cancer." I say.  
"Oh do you now?"  
"You get a lot of attention from pretty young nurses."  
Maria laughs. "And is that me?"  
"Oh, was I that obvious?"  
Flirting with my doctors. Another way I get through my days laying in the hospital bed.  
"Anyway." She says. She doesn't like to flirt with me too much. She's engaged. Engaged to a non-dying patient. "Did Wes come by yet?"  
"He has a finale today. He'll come by tomorrow." Every other day (usually) Wesley, my younger brother, comes by to drop off new books and take the ones I've finished back to the library. He sits and we talk and he tells me about his day and how school's going. Somedays we hang out and talk like normal brothers. Sometimes it's awkward and depressing, the silent that passes between us, so he makes up an excuse to leave or I say I need a nap. And sometimes I actually am too sick to visit. So I really do say 'I need to take a nap.' and mean it. So he doesn't have to stick around and watch me pathetically shake and sweat. I play it cool with him. I don't let on how sick I am or how depressed I am. I pretend it's just some kind of annoying cancer that bores me. But really, it's stage four melanoma. 4% survival rate. But he doesn't need to know that. He's busy with school. I like to give him the gift of oblivion. But sometimes the deep side comes out in him. Last week he came for a visit and it was a few hours after one of my chemo. I was throwing up all over the place and I was a sweaty and shaky mess. It was rather enjoyable, actually. Sarcasm.  
He looked all scared and concerned at first. The little sad look on his face. It was the first time he ever saw me looking sick. And I was too out of it to even say anything or do anything. All I remember was the look on his face.  
Shortly after he had arrived I fell asleep. And when I woke up two hours later to puke, he was still there. I had woken up and knew I was gonna throw up. I reached for the little plastic puke bowl they leave for us, but I didn't feel it to grab it, and my eyes were still adjusting to the light. Those nurses forget I like the lights off when I'm sleeping. Anyways I ended up throwing up all over my bed. Not my finest moment.  
"Oh, gosh." Wesley had said. "Uh, um,"  
"It's fine." I say. "Just press the button." I point to the one on the wall. He stands up and presses it, then flinches like he expected sirens to go off. "Are you okay?" He asks.  
"I'm covered in puke." I had muttered. "Of course I'm not okay." Then I smile and plug my nose for effect. "Cancer stinks."  
He had smiled, slightly. Maria came in at that point and stripped the sheets and handed me a new gown to change into.  
"Is there something I can do to help?" Wes looked concerned again.  
"No." I tell him. "Maria has to take care of puke boy to get paid. It's how she affords those pretty highlights."  
"Yup." She smiled catching onto the mood of my worried brother. "I have to work for my money. Thanks, Ezra, for making my job so hard."  
Wesley smiled and lightened up. After that I told him to go home and handed him a list of books to get me. I told him thanks for staying with me and if he ever told anyone about this, I'd beat him. He left and thought everything was okay. But then I puked the entire night and the next morning I had surgery to remove tumors that had spread to my liver. Kinda like how tomorrow morning I'll have surgery on my brain to remove some more. Wesley is all I have left. I haven't heard from Aria in a month. My dad died. Harley, my best friend, is in Paris on his honeymoon. I found out I had cancer two days before his wedding. He got married two weeks ago. I can't tell him. He JUST got married. I won't ruin this time for him. When he calls to chat I tell him I'm sitting in my apartment watching Aria sleep. Or that I was about to do the dishes that've piled up for weeks because my dishwasher broke. He thinks that's my biggest problem. A broken dishwasher. And that's how I want it to stay. In a few weeks I'll tell him. And then I'll tell my mom. Who I haven't spoken to in years.  
I have other friends. But I don't want to worry them. Wesley is the only one who knows because he found out. He used his emergency key to get in my house one day to 'borrow' some money. And at the time he was in my house when I wasn't, my doctor called and he heard the voicemail. Sneaky little brother.  
I'm giving this treatment a shot. I told my doctors if there wasn't improvement in a month, I was going to go home and die. No one would miss me. Maybe Wesley would at first, but he has such a busy life that he wouldn't notice me gone. Same with anyone else. Everyone has a life. And me? I have his hospital bed and a stack of books. And cancer.


	2. Dead!

"Sometimes I think I'm dead." I say.  
Doctor Parker looks up from my chart. "Is that so?" She asks. Doctor Parker is about 26. She's a surgical intern. I'm her homework a lot of the time. I had just woken up to the sound of her in my room.  
"Yeah." I say. "When I wake up and see you standing in my room. She laughs.  
"Do you think your in Heaven or Hell?" She winks.  
"Hell."  
"Ouch." She acts offended.  
"Wanna know why?"  
"Cause I'm not nearly as pretty as some of your other doctors?"  
"No. Because you're standing there all attractive looking and I'm laying here in a bed. And not in a sexy way."  
She smiles. "I have to give you this IV to prep you for surgery."  
I sigh. "I have a question."  
"Shoot." She says.  
"It's not medical."  
"That's alright. I know more than just medicine."  
"If I survive this surgery will you get into bed with me and let me take your scrubs off?"  
"Maybe." She winks. "Maybe I will."  
"No strings attacked?"  
"Was that a metaphor for hot sex with no relationship responsibility, or did you mean no IV's?"  
I laugh. "I meant it as a pun."  
"Nice job."  
"Thank you. I try. I have a lot of time on my hands, you know."  
Doctor Perison walks in with a team of three other surgeons.  
"Doctor Parker, you can stop the IV." He tells her. She stops getting the needle out from her tray, and puts the bag back into the cart.  
"Ezra, I have bad news." Doctor Perison sits on my bed.  
"Lemme guess." I say. "Cancer's gone. I don't need any surgery and I get to go home and I have to go back to work and teach highschoolers. That's the bad news, right?"  
"I wish." he says. "I just reviewed today's CT scan."  
"And the chemo's making my brain shrink?" I joke.  
"Not quiet. Your tumors aren't as small as we had hoped."  
"The chemo didn't shrink them?"  
He shakes his head. "I'm sorry. No."  
"So what does that mean?" I ask.  
"It means no surgery today."  
"Good." I say. "I didn't wanna have to fork over all that money." I joke. But inside I'm dying. Another pun. Ha.  
"So we're gonna do some more chemo. Different kinds. And try this again next week. Okay? Sound good?"  
"I'd rather sleep."  
"Pardon me?" he asks.  
"I just want to go home." I lean back.  
"Mr. Fitz. If you go home, you will die." He tells me as if I don't know. He leans forward with concern.  
"That's what I meant by I'd rather sleep." I say.  
He stands up. "We'll do another round of chemotherapy starting tomorrow at noon. This one will be slightly more aggressive."  
"Great. Can't wait." I shake my head. "Just great."  
Everyone leaves and I'm alone in my room. I turn on the TV and watch it mindlessly. I have cancer. I'm going to die.  
I should be crushed by the news I got. But I'm not. I'm kinda glad. Death is so much easier than fighting, when you have nothing to fight for.


	3. This is how I Disappear

My fingers linger over my keyboard. I stare down at the letters. Why is it that they aren't in alphabetical order? Who though of mixing them all up anyway? I'm logged onto my Facebook. My mother, and even Aria, are my friends, although we don't speak. "I've kept this to myself for a while." I begin typing. "I'm only making this known, so if I die today, it won't be a surprise to anyone." morbid much? "I myself like surprises. But I don't think many of you do. I have stage four melanoma. Which is a fancy word for you're out of luck and you're going to die even if the doctors say you have a shot. I know I'm probably gonna die. And I'm okay with that. I just thought I should let you all know, also." I look at what I wrote carefully. Then I delete the last four sentences. "The melanoma spread to my brain, liver and lungs. They took the rumors from my liver out and in two days they'll try and get the ones in my brain." I stop there. I don't know what else there is to say. I'm about to post it, but then I add the location to the post. It pops up the hospitals name with the link to the address. I click the post button and I close my laptop. Then I decide to take a nap. I can't muster up enough energy to move my laptop or turn off the light. I don't even have the energy to Press the nurses button. I just fall asleep right there.

* * *

When I wake up from my surgery I'm angry. I'm very angry. two days ago I posted that I had a deadly cancer. Not one visit. Not one call. Not one card. Only Wesley has contacted me. A few people commented and sent their love. But I wake up from surgery - BRAIN SURGERY - and no one is in my room. Not even Wesley.

* * *

Aria is the love of my life. And I know that's not fair to her. So I broke up with her. I know I shoved her away. But part of me hoped, regardless of me breaking her heart, she'd be there as I had my cancer-ridden brain cut open. But no. Not even a phone call. I can't blame her. If I were here I'd probably wish me dead too. Intact even as myself I wish me dead. I am twenty three years old. I graduated highschool when I was eighteen. Then I went to college to be a highschool teacher. In my senior year of college, I met a girl named Aria. Aria was still in highschool. She was a senior in highschool, but she was taking a duel enrollment class there. We started hanging out and talking, and soon we were both head over heels. But I could never get up the nerve to actually become official with her because I knew I was no good for her. I was twenty two, she was only seventeen. I was sort of slipping into depression. She was this sweet little Pastor daughter who was dead set on waiting till marriage and all that. But one day, finally, she just spat it out. "Can we be official?" She asked as we sat outside eating subway sandwiches. "Uhm..." I pause. "Yes." I had said. Even though I shouldn't have. "We can." Then she kissed me. Our first kiss. Then she said it was time for her to get back to highschool, she got in her car, and she left. I was floating on air as I walked back to my classes. But then, I heard a loud bang. I looked around. People started screaming and yelling and running away. Then I head another bang, and saw bodies falling to the group, and blood pouring from them. I tried to run. So many people were getting shot. Right infront of my eyes, my best friend Roger got shot. I ran over to him and grabbed his hand, pleading for him not to die. Then I saw something bulky in his jacket pocket. I look. It was a gun. "Hey, Ezra." I had looked up terrified. The gun was pointed at me. "This is for stealing my girlfriend from me."  
Rebecca.  
Five months ago, Rebecca Harson fell in love with me and left Quinten Stevens. I knew she had left Quinten for me. But I didn't stop her. I dated her for three months before she died in a car wreck. Which obviously has sent Quinten into heartbroken rage over the loss of Becca. Me on the other hand got out of the relationship with only a few cuts and bruises to my heart. I wasn't inlove with her like Quinten was. His was spilt wide open and he knew I got off easy with my pain. And so when he went shooting up the college, he shot everyone he had a problem with. Anyone who brought him pain. And I was top on his list. He was about to pull the trigger. He had killed so many people and would have killed so many more. I pull the gun from Roger's pocket and point it at him and I say "Put the gun -" He pulls the trigger. But he misses. He's tackled by someone behind him. It hits the person behind me. He shoots again. This time it does hit me. In the arm. I aim the gun the best I can and shot. It hits Quinten. And he dies instantly. The case was taken to court. And the jury decided I wasn't guilty of murder. It was self defense. And so I shouldn't feel guilty, right? I only shot him because he would've shot me and others. So then why do I feel guilty? Because if it weren't for me taking Becca from him, he would've felt the need to kill anyone. And the three teachers and four students who were killed would be alive. My best friend at the time, the one with the gun in his pocket, had the gun because he was going to help with the shooting. Help kill me. I was the one who let on that his mother was having an affair, and I was the reason his dad divorced his mom which ruined his life. So needless to say I lost a huge chunk of my heart that day. I forced Aria to leave me. I couldn't bring her down with my depression. I was dark. I killed a man. I was the reason people died. And then I was diagnosed with cancer. I can't justify the things I did. Which is why I couldn't justify letting Aria stay with me and be ruined by my ruined life. I'm going to die now. And I'm going to die without Aria in my life. I'm disappearing. Without her even knowing. Because to her I'm already gone. To her I'm dead. And even if I live through this, I will still be dead to her. And I will never fall in love again. So I will be dead to most of the world.

* * *

"I'm on a lot of drugs." I say into the phone. I dialed Aria's number and, of course, got voicemail. "I'm on a crud load of stuff." I continue. "So you might think I'm crazy. And I'm not. I'm just on drugs. But not the bad drugs. The pain meds from the surgery. But I just had a quick question. Do all good girls go to heaven? Because I would feel a lot better, and it would make for an easier death if I knew that when you die, you'll get to go to heaven." I start to cry. "I know it's too late for me to get to go to heaven but you should still be able to. Even though I ruined you. Because you don't deserve hell. It's awful. I'm in it. And I'm telling you, it's awful. Stay out of it Aria. Stay away from me. You cannot follow me to hell. You stay away." I begin to choke on my words and the monitor beeps that my pulse is rising. "I'm sorry, Aria, for all I did. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was a bad person. And I would shout it to the entire world if it would make a difference but it won't. I'm going to die. And I know to you I'm already dead. And I'm sorry." Nurses come in wondering why my monitors are so high. "Bye Aria." I hang up and close my eyes. And I fall asleep.


	4. The Sharpest Lives

I feel like a vampire. I sleep the entire day. Chemo, puke, sleep. Chemo, puke, sleep. Every few days I'm able to see Wesley. I'm in the ICU now. I have an infection from the chemo. So he doesn't come often. I asked him not to. And I've been here in the ICU for five days. And I haven't even finished three chapters of my book. I haven't opened my laptop. Or even looked at my phone. It's dead I think. I don't know. I keep having this dream. This dream of being in a bar. With a drink in my hand, dancing. Or a dream of popping pills. Except these aren't the pain meds. They're illegal sleeping pills. I used to take them. I used to do a lot of stuff I should've have done. I still do a lot of things I shouldn't do.


	5. The Black Parade

"When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city to see a marching band."  
I look over at Wesley who's sitting next to me. "He said 'Son, when you grow up will you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?' He asked me to defeat my demoms and all the non-believers in me and crush the plans they've made to destory me. He told me one day he'd leave me, a phantom in the summer, to join the black parade. I never knew what he meant. I just nodded. "You promise?" he had asked. And I had pinky promised him like it meant something. Then he died, a few weeks later. Of cancer. And now I'm grown and I have cancer. And I now realize what he meant. He wanted me to help people. People like him. People who needed help. Not just support as they die from cancer, but in general. He wanted me to help people. And I would if I could." I sigh. "You think I'm crazy."  
"I do not." Wesley says. "Not at all."  
Wes and I have two different dad's. He never knew his, and since my parents were never married, Wes never got to know my dad before he died.  
"I failed my dad."  
"You did not." Wesley says. "You still have a chance to help people."  
"How?" I mutter. "I'm in the ICU. I'm dying. I lost my chance. My dad died from cancer and his dying wish was for me to help people and look what I did. I spent my life drinking and partying... barely made it through school. Made a mess of my life."  
"Your dad died from cancer."  
"Yeah?" I say. "Your point?"  
"He wanted you to help people like him. Hopeless and broken. He wanted you to help them carry on."  
"Right."  
"And you're dying from cancer."  
"Okay?"  
"Help yourself." He says.  
"What?"  
"Help yourself. You're the person he wants you to help."  
I don't say anything. I'm at a loss for words.  
"Help yourself by actually trying to get better. Actually fighting to cure your cancer and then help people with the rest of your life. Instead of sitting here mopping and hoping your cancer kills you. And help yourself by taking Aria back. Dude, she loves you. And you pushed her away cause of your insecurites. Let her help you. Don't protect her from yourself, if all that does is hurt her. Get with it."  
I sigh. "Wesley."  
"Yeah?"  
"You got the logic gene that I obviously lack." I laugh.  
"Glad I could help." He stands up. "But I have an exam in twenty minutes so I gotta head out."  
"Alright. Good luck."  
"Yeah." He says. "Good luck to you too."  
I finally ask a nurse to plug in my phone for me. And after it turns on, I look at the messages and missed calls. There are none from Aria. My other friends have tried to call and sent texts of encouragment. That's nice. But nothing from Aria.  
I turn on the tv and hope it'll relax me. At least slightly.  
To Kill a Mocking Bird is on. The movie. Aria loves this movie. I have no idea why. She's never even read the book. I have. Personally I wasn't a fan of the movie. But Aria loves it. She must have seen it twenty times. I sit there and close my eyes and listen to the movie Aria made me wah tcabout five times. We'd cuddle next to each other and watch the movie. She'd usually fall asleep near the end and I watch her sleep and run my fingers through her hair and rub her cheeks with my thumb...  
Sometimes I'd even turn off the movie and sing to her. I'd wrap my arms around her and listen to her breathe like it was a melody from heaven.  
I didn't like the movie all that much. But the things the movie gave to me, that time with Aria after she fell asleep, well, it made me love this movie. I could quote every line of this movie. I sit there with my eyes closed and mouth the words that they are saying. I can feel her presents next to me. I can feel Aria laying next to me, stroaking my hair like I did to hers. I feel her fingers in mine. I hear the cold air of her breath on my neck. I open my eyes. And she's not there. She's not going to come either.


	6. I don't love you

"Aria you need to go."  
"Why? Ezra I don't understand." Aria's is close to tears.  
"You don't get it. I'm breaking up with you. Go."  
"Ezra..." She grabs my hand I pull it away. We're standing in the doorway of my apartment.  
"Aria, you need to go."  
"But Ezra I love you!" It's been two weeks since the shooting. We stayed together but I can see the wear of the situation and relationship on Aria.  
"Aria, the toxic influence I'm having on you may ultimately ruin your life. Which is why you need to go."  
"No, Ezra, it's not, please, just please, we'll get through this! I'm okay, I can help you..."  
"Fine Aria." I snap. Although I don't know why I'm snapping at her. She's done nothing wrong. "But when you go, when you finally come to your senses, don't ever think I'll try to make you stay"  
"Okay."  
"And when you do leave I'll have to move on. Cause I know you'll try and come back."  
"Okay." She whipes her tears. I should be whiping her tears. But I'm not. I'm awful. I sit down on the couch and turn the TV on. She stands froozen in the door way for a while before coming over to me. I don't talk to her. And she stays on the other side of the couch. And she doesn't ask to put To Kill a Mocking Bird on. But she does stay on the couch. And so do I. That's something.

A few days later, Aria comes over unexpectly after class. Just as I'm on the phone with my doctor schedualing a regular yearly check up. She knocks, and I go answer it. When I see it's Aria, I hang up the phone before schedualing. Which is one of the reasons why it took so long to diagnose my cancer. Nice timing, Aria. "You're pushing me away!" Aria pushes her way in my apartment. "And it's not fair!"  
"Aria, seriously?" I slam the door behind her.  
"Yes seriously! Why are you pushing me away!?"  
"You know why, Aria!"  
"But it's not fair!" She throws her purse on my couch.  
"Life isn't fair!"  
"You still owe me!"  
"What do I owe you?" I ask raising my hands.  
"Time!" She yells. We both pause. She walks closer to me. "We're supposed to have a long life together. You promised."  
"Aria..." I take her hand and guide her to the couch. "You need to get out while you can."  
"You keep saying things like that." She says. "But what do they mean?"  
"You need to leave me for your own sake before you get in too deep and really, REALLY love me, which would make it even harder and probably impossible for you to leave. And things are going to get hard. And dark. You know I'm not good for you. I'm just..." I pause. "Sick." Funny that I'd say this because I didn't even know about the cancer at this point.

Eventually Aria got tired of me pushing her away and convincing her to leave. And so she did. "I'm sick and tired of this needless beating." She had told me. "And so you win, Ezra. You win. I'll leave." And so I asked her, "Do you love me?" She paused for a long time. "Needless beating." She finally whispered. "Do you have the guts to say 'I don't love you.'?" I asked. She looked at me with wet eyes. "I don't love you like I did yesterday." And then she left. And that was the last time I ever saw her.


End file.
